The Gift of Love (18 page)

For a few moments, there was little heard in the room other than the sound of two people trying to catch their breath. Taylor had collapsed on her as soon as he climaxed, but eventually he moved off her. She made a small sound of protest, wanting to prolong the feeling of having him inside her, on her, surrounding her with his arms. His response was to look deeply into her eyes before rolling over so he was sitting up with his back to her. He looked stiff, tense, not at all like a man who had just had great sex.

“Taylor? Is something wrong?” she asked, afraid if she saw his face she’d see the only-too-familiar distant look.

“No, nothing’s wrong. I need to get rid of this condom.” He went into her bathroom without turning back to look at her and shut the door.

She pulled the comforter up over her still damp and rapidly chilling body. The scent of Taylor’s aftershave mixed with the smell of sex and sweat, which she inhaled, put a smile on her face. The man who had made love to her—and it had definitely been lovemaking, not merely sex—was all she could ask for in a lover. He was tender, passionate, and he cared as much about her pleasure as his own.

Then the smile faded as she wondered if the man who left her bed for the bathroom was someone else altogether.

For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, Taylor was staring at himself in a bathroom mirror wondering what the hell he was doing. He thought he’d buried his guilt about his role in the problems Break Up or Make Up had with the city by rationalizing that the whole mess had been sorted out. Everything was fine. He’d even begun to believe he could tell her and they’d joke about it.

Right. Like he could joke about his dysfunctional family.

How could he have been so stupid? The look she gave him after they’d made love brought back all the guilt and shame, multiplied now by the knowledge he’d taken her to bed when she didn’t really know who he was. Her big brown eyes had been full of trust and, God help him, an emotion he knew was much, much more than mere desire. He was the biggest ass in the city, in the state, if he thought he’d be able to blithely have sex with her without any consequences. Now he had to face it—he was falling for her, and from that look in her eyes, she felt the same way.

There was no way around it. He had to tell her what he’d done. Had to get it over with. If she told him to get out of her apartment, out of her life, he’d at least have been kicked to the curb knowing he’d finally been honest with her.

He splashed his face with cold water, dried his hands and face, and went back into the bedroom.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “You were gone a long time.” He could hear real concern in her voice, which made it much harder to do what he was about to do.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his back to her. “I’m fine. Really. But there’s something I have to tell you.” He turned around to face her while he confessed.

She held up her hand and shook her head. “Don’t. Please. From the look on your face, you feel like you have to tell me something bad. Unless you have some awful disease or have stashed a crazy wife in an institution someplace because you can’t divorce her or you’re a serial killer, I don’t want to know tonight.” She took his hand and kissed each knuckle individually. “This has been the most perfect night of my life, and I don’t want to come down from it yet. Whatever it is you want to tell me can wait until the morning.” She looked up into his face. “Can’t it?”

He knew he should say it couldn’t. Knew he shouldn’t allow her to let him off the hook. But he did. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”

“It is. Now come back to bed. I need some serious spooning.”

He held her the way she wanted to be held and listened as her breathing fell into a regular pattern of sleep. She was beautiful even when she slept. So beautiful it broke his heart. She deserved more than he’d given her. Hell, once he’d known who she worked for, he should never have given in to the attraction. But he had. Because for the first time in his life, doing something unexpected had felt so right.

Until it felt wrong. Like it did now.

Most of the night, for him, was spent either beating up on himself about how he’d handled things with her or crafting ways to tell her what he needed to tell her in a favorable way. He was only successful at the first. He was certainly not successful at getting any sleep.

Finally, at six thirty, he gave up, disentangled his arm from around her, and inched his way off the bed. Dressing quickly in the dark, he hoped to leave before she awakened, but she must have sensed his absence from her bed because as he was finishing tying his shoes, he heard, “Taylor? Why are you getting dressed? What time is it?”

“It’s almost seven. I need to go home. I was going to leave a note. It’s work. You don’t have to get up. I can find my way out. I’ll call you. Promise.” He left before she could try to convince him to stay.

• • •

“I swear to God I’m beginning to think Taylor Jordan has some kind of multiple personality disorder. One minute he’s Mr. Good Guy, the next he’s Mr. Gone Guy.” Bella and Summer had finished their weekly Skype session and transitioned into catching up with each other’s personal life.

“So the weekend didn’t go the way you wanted it to?” Summer asked.

“Well, technically, part of the weekend did. Saturday was wonderful. The dinner was delicious. We talked and talked. He was sweet and funny, even talked about his family a little. Not once did he disappear behind that look he gets sometimes. I thought we were making progress.”

“I hear no mention of the good stuff.”

“Oh, there was good stuff. While we were getting drinks before dinner, he kissed me so thoroughly I thought we were going to end up naked on the kitchen floor.” She hesitated, not sure how much she really wanted to share with her boss.

“From your hesitation, I’m guessing you are trying to figure out how to tell me you eventually did end up naked.”

“I keep forgetting how good you are at understanding what
isn’t
being said. Yes, he spent the night. It was amazing. I’m not the world’s most experienced woman when it comes to sex, but I’m pretty sure he’d be at the top of any woman’s list of fantastic lovers.”

“One point in his favor, a big one, at least in my book. If Saturday was so great, what happened Sunday to turn the weekend around?”

“I wish I knew. At some God awful early hour Sunday morning, he snuck out of bed and got dressed. I woke up as he was leaving, and all he said was he had work to do. He didn’t even kiss me goodbye.” She could feel the tears she’d been holding back for more than a day begin to well up. She sniffled. “Sorry. I need to get a tissue.” A few minutes later, she was back. “Didn’t mean to be so goopy about this. I just wish I understood him better.”

“Girlfriend, every woman alive has sung some verse of that song at least once in her life. Surely after all the clients you’ve seen come through our office, you know that.”

“I guess I do. But I didn’t ever think I’d be one of them.”

“We never do. Have you thought about confronting him with your questions and keeping at him until he answers them?”

“I’m not sure I’d call it confronting, but I have asked him about things—his family, mostly.”

“Maybe it’s time for a more serious intervention. If you want to keep this relationship going, I mean.”

“Yes, I want to keep it going. I’ve never been this attracted to a man in my life. And when things are good, they’re so good it makes me wonder how I got so lucky. In fact ...” She stopped before she revealed any more.

“In fact, if I’m reading your expression correctly, you’re falling for him, aren’t you?” Summer asked.

Something else Bella had apparently forgotten—they were Skyping and her boss could see her face.

“I think you have the tense of the verb wrong. It should be past tense. I’ve already fallen for him.”

“Then we better think of some ways to see if you can make this work. How about ...”

The front door to the BU/MU office opened, and Bella lost the rest of the advice her boss was giving her as the man in question walked in. He hesitated, then took a couple steps into the reception area before stopping again.

“Uh, Summer, someone’s here. Maybe we could continue this conversation later.”

“Sure, but don’t put off taking care of this. I don’t want to see you ...”

“Talk to you later.” She closed the Skype app before Summer could finish the sentence. “Taylor. What’re you doing here?”

Somehow the fact he looked embarrassed made her feel good. “Uh, well, I thought I’d drop in and say hello. See your new place.” He was actually shuffling his feet and glancing down at the floor as he spoke.

“How nice of you. Is this a service MBA offers to all its clients?”

He finally looked at her. “No, Isabella. This has nothing to do with MBA. Truthfully, it has nothing to do with seeing your new space, either. I came to apologize. And to talk to you.”

“Really? Apologize for what?” She knew she was being a little mean, but after all the uncertainty he’d put her through, she was going to make him say exactly what he meant.

“For Saturday night—well, actually Sunday morning, I guess. I shouldn’t have left the way I did. You deserve better.” He indicated a chair next to the desk where she was sitting. “Can I sit down?”

“Are you going to be here long? Or do you have to leave for some work reason?”

He grimaced. “I deserve the barb. Actually I deserve more. Because of ... well, what I want to tell you. There’s another part of why I’m here. I said Saturday night I needed to tell you something. I want to get it out on the table. It may change things between, us but I have to get it out.”

“Okay, sit then.”

He sat but didn’t look comfortable. “Would it be possible to get a cup of coffee? I need a little more caffeine than usual this morning.”

What could he possibly have to tell her that took caffeine courage? “Sure. I started the coffee brewing before my Skype meeting with Summer. It should be ready by now.”

• • •

He watched her as she walked to what had been the old dining room and pulled out two mugs. He was mesmerized by the grace with which she did everything including something as simple as pouring coffee or adjusting the volume on the radio. Which she was now doing, muting the sound of what he thought was a local radio advice columnist. He seemed to remember she liked to listen to that program.

Maybe she’d been listening hoping for advice on how to deal with him. He didn’t blame her if she was. He’d spent the entire time he’d known her going back and forth between being attracted to her beauty and easy grace, her enthusiasm for life, and her intelligence and trying to make himself run for the hills because of what he’d kept hidden from her.

No more. He was here to tell the truth. It had taken all the nerve he had to come to her office today because he knew he could be about to ruin his chances to be with her. It sucked to be honest, but it was worse to feel guilty.

“Taylor, do I remember right, you take one sugar with your coffee?” She sounded like she’d already asked the question at least once.

“Sorry. One sugar. Right.”

For the first time since he had walked into the building, he saw a smile on her face. It wasn’t much of one and was more sad than happy, as if she’d expected he wouldn’t be paying attention, but it was something. He hoped she’d still be wearing any smile at all when he was finished telling his story.

While he’d been chewing over the same shreds of guilt and fear he’d been working on all weekend, she’d apparently been standing in front of him with a mug of coffee extended to him, her sad look still in place. “Thanks,” he said. He took a huge swig and nearly choked on it.

She returned to her chair on the opposite side of what he assumed would one day be the receptionist’s desk. “So,” she started, “you had something you wanted to tell me.”

He took another gulp of coffee. “It’s kind of a long story,” he began. “A year or so ago ...”

The office phone rang. She looked frustrated at the interruption. Saying, “I’m sorry, I have to answer this,” she picked up the phone. “Good morning. This is Bella at Break Up or Make Up. How can I help you?”

He saw her eyes light up when the person at the other end of the call responded.

“Mrs. Pennington, I’m so glad you called. I’ve wanted to touch base with you ever since the planning commission hearing. I hoped we could try to iron out our differences so we can be a positive part of what’s going on in the neighborhood.”

Oh, shit. Jane Pennington was on the other end of the call. The woman he’d gossiped to who started the snowball rolling that almost buried Isabella and Summer in an avalanche. And Isabella wanted to talk to her. Double shit. He slammed the mug down so hard the remains of his coffee slopped over the edge onto his hand and the papers on the desk.

She continued, “Coffee would be great. Let me go get my calendar, and we’ll set something up.” She put the phone down and disappeared into the back.

He’d known walking into the BU/MU office, it wouldn’t take much to turn things into a real disaster. And now a simple phone call had done it. Isabella would think he only told her his secret because Mrs. Pennington was about to out him over a cup of Starbucks’s finest.

His last bit of courage was gone. He had to be, too. He wrote a note saying he’d gotten a call from his office and had to go and slipped out the front door before Isabella came back. The chance of explaining what he’d done in a way that didn’t look petty and stupid had been slim to begin with. On the slim-to-none scale, he’d now officially reached “none.”

He’d disappeared. Again. At least this time, he left a note. Summer was right. She was going to have to trap him in his office and force him to answer her questions. If he wouldn’t, she was done. This was absurd. It didn’t matter how attractive he was or how good he made her feel in bed. If he wasn’t willing to talk about what the hell was going on and why he kept disappearing, mentally or physically, she was giving up. Surely love shouldn’t be this difficult, should it?

Luckily she had a full day of meetings with former BU/MU clients to see if she could get testimonials from them about the services they’d received. She was looking forward to meeting the people she’d contacted, most of whom she’d only previously known through Summer’s descriptions.